[There's some muffled speaking, the view is a sort of blurry darkness – not really much of anything can be seen aside from fuzzy sort of darkness or heard for that matter, what one might expect for an entirely accidental effort to contact the network. There’s another voice.] Now it is recording, see? [and then silence.][The world spins briefly and the view of a wall slowly focuses, as if someone is carelessly holding the phone away from themselves, a male voice can be heard, near.] That is exactly as Merlin has done before. [So the once King insists as if it might not be heard by others, as if the fault here does not rest with him.] [The view upon the screen now eases into focus, Arthur is clearly being guided now in adjusting the device. You can hear a softer voice off camera, one that’s full of patience, that would be Gwen.] Like this, Arthur. [ The camera is now sturdy and facing the correct way, you can see Arthur’s face in full view, no longer just an upside down view of his nose.] Thank you Guinevere. [His adoration is quite plain, both in voice and in the look upon his face. His gaze soon turns once more to the camera.]For those I have not met, I am Arthur Pendragon. [Largely the entire vessel is unknown to him, Arthur's preferred to keep close to those he knows best, for the most part his purpose here is to protect them.] My inquiry concerns work aboard the Tranquillity, if I may find it. I'd look to ensure the security of the ship, join the patrol. [Arthur's gaze lowers a moment, as if he's concerned his confession might sound foolish, and it is with brief reluctance he goes on, voice stern.] I'm growing concerned of the safety of the halls here. It is clear more than just shadows watch us.

[ the camera comes on to show guinevere in the gardens, who, even after so much time on the ship still looks a little ill at ease on camera. it could be the technology or perhaps she's just modest and what she's about to do may seem otherwise, in a way. Biting her lip for a moment, she quickly gathers her words to speak--]

I know that there are many that are... not used to the clothing that ship may provide us. [wait, she's going to scramble not to insult anyone] Not that it is poorly made or unseemly, only that-- [ she lets out a breath, reminding herself to take a breath and that having a task is better than sitting around doing nothing.] What I mean to say is, I wish again to offer my services as a seamstress to any who would require new clothing or clothing that is better suited to what they are accustomed. I have many fabrics to work with or I can alter clothing you already have.

[ she offers a gentle smile before she seems to remember--] Oh, and my name is Gwen, if you wish to contact me.

[ gwen accidently turns this to video at first. forgive her, she's exhausted. utterly. and she looks it when the camera shows her gaunt face and there are shadows beneath her eyes. she fumbles quickly to switch it to text; ]

[ The feed opens to a woman and a dragon. Morgana is dressed in white silks, that combined with her black hair and red lips give away the impression of a Snow White beauty; fittingly so for the dragon at her side is snow white as well, its head rests in her lap as she passes her fingers along its scales. Some of you might remember her, even if she were a tiny bit different. ]

I do not suppose they could think of a cruder more degrading manner to bring us all here?

[ an arch of an eyebrow before she abandons the sarcasm.]

Fellow passengers of the Tranquility, I hope this finds you well and by now - thoroughly washed.

[ what. The space goo was the most disgusting thing she had ever experienced and she had seen Arthur eat since she was eleven. ]

I would ask you one question, if you would indulge me. What is the meaning of the numbers our…gracious hosts have carved onto our arms? I know what the symbol does but I am more curious as to why these specific numbers were chosen.

As for our wonderful hosts, whoever they might be - if they are listening I shall say only this, I have grown among very stubborn men; one is a king, the other a crown prince and I can say for certain they would be unhappy indeed if and when they would learn of this. But you will find that perhaps it is I who would pose more of a trouble than them both combined.

[ she inclines her head, ever the lady before meeting the dragon's gaze ]

[ the camera turns on to show gwen holding a sword that is sheathed, the handle basic yet beautifully crafted, well made.] The events as of late have made it clear that we may need to defend ourselves from those we do not know. Enemies outside of our ship and... well, erm, perhaps the monsters that lay within. [ space rats.]

[ she pulls the blade from it's sheath to show her work, smiling softly as she lays it down and addresses the camera once more.]

I would like to offer my services to those who are in need of a sword. My father was a blacksmith and taught me his trade- [ cue a sadder sort of smile.] I can also make smaller blades. I only ask that you use them to defend yourselves and not on one another. We must work together to protect our temporary home. I share a forge with Fili and Kili, who are also master craftsmen.

[ since the elevators malfunctioned, arthur's returned to dressing in full armour constantly, and so he's clad now in chain and plate as he addresses the screen. he's sweaty, dirty-blond hair plastered to a forehead pinkened with exertion, though his breathing is even. ]

Evening, Tranquility. Back home, in Camelot, I spent a large amount of my time training the knights; and with their honour and devotion, as well as their skills, I honed them into the finest warriors in the realm.

[ there's something rose-tinted about that nostalgia. he's right at the point where he's starting to forget to miss camelot, sometimes, and he's clinging onto thoughts of it fiercely. ]

Though my men are not with us, and I'm lacking an armoury—

[ some amusement in his tone at that. ]

—I thought perhaps I'd extend the offer to any who wish to learn to defend themselves. You'll be assigned training tasks to improve your general fitness and understanding of strategy, and I'll teach you the sword. I'm skilled in plenty of weapons, but not many of them can be substituted with sticks.

[ and then he draws his blade from its scabbard, twirls it in his hand with idle showiness. ]

The amount of time I'll have available will obviously depend on the level of interest. I've already got a couple of pupils, but I welcome more, so long as you're willing to work hard and obey orders. You may think it absurd, but a blade never runs out of bullets.

[ After lots of trying, she's finally able to get a clear message through, it's the same she's been sending for a while, and while fractured, it goes through, at least. She sounds frightened as she speaks.] Please my name is Gu░░░ I am in need of h░░░░░░░░░░ lost for some time now. And now I think there ░░░░░░░░░ chasing me. ░░░░░ not sure I can fend them off ░░ long.

Can anyone hear me? [ There's horrible screeching sound that echoes out and you can hear Gwen panting suddenly, like she may be running just as the feed cuts. Damn those ROUSes are quick. Seriously, guys, why aren't there swords or Wesleys on this ship?]

[ And on the end of this feed: Moran in all his muttonchopped glory, looking exceptionally grumpy. That is, grumpier than he normally looks. ]

My name is Sebastian Moran, number 008-155.

[ For the first time, he doesn't introduce himself as Colonel. As a matter of fact, almost none of what follows sounds like your typical Moran. It's terribly obvious that he's being puppetted through this, and if his Christopher Walken-esque performance prompts anything, there may, in fact, even be cue cards helping him along. ]

Prior to this jump, I made the absolutely idiotic mistake of firing a shot at one of them bleeding cleaning dev-- [ He shoots a doubtful look just off camera. ] A Roomba. I made the absolutely idiotic mistake of firing a shoot at a Roomba.

I've been punished for this with time in the brig, of course, but this is me issuing a much-needed public apology. I apologize for this violent act, and I apologize for being a moron in general. Moron is, after all, nearly my name. Chums.

[ Just before the feed flickers to black, there's a brief shot of him essentially facepalming. What is his poor life? ]

[There's only Merlin's back to be seen at first. But Gwen, Camelot's other finest servant (true, in her case) soon joins him, taking the few tunics and trousers from Merlin's arms.]

I don't understand it. Our clothes look perfectly fine to me.

It seems everyone dresses differently here. [ She gives him a soft, encouraging smile.] But I can see what I can do, maybe copy the fashion. Then perhaps we'll blend in a bit more. [ Since she constantly feels a little out of place in her two dresses, where others seem to have many outfits and variations.]

Yes!

[There's excitement in his voice, because she says exactly what he's hoping for.]

I know if anyone can do it, it's you. Oh, do you need this one too?

[After a moment Merlin pulls off his own shirt, pale and kind of scrawny beneath it. But it's fine, because it's just Gwen.]

[HELLOOOOooo Tranquility it's Simon. Today he sounds like what you expect a surgeon who just helped autopsy a child would sound like--sort of tired and maybe a little sad.

But he is nothing if not professional, so here goes.]

This is, uh. This is Dr. Tam. In Medbay.

Just a few reminders from the doctors on board--I'm sure everyone has figured out by now that last month's stasis chamber malfunction has...corrected itself. If you were asleep last month and have experienced any prolonged side-effects from the jump, please inform a doctor or nurse.

[And speaking of...]

I guess we might...also consider this the obligatory call for doctors, or...[cough healers. If you're new and have medical experience, we could use your talents.

Recently, I've been speaking to several people about assembling a team of paramedics, maybe an overlap between Security and Medical. A team of first responders might be helpful, given...recent events.

[There's a second or two of silence and the brief hint of a sigh.] I know we're all stretched a little thin, as it is, but it can't hurt to gauge interest. I'd be willing to help train anyone who wants to learn.

[ it's baby's first post! the feed turns on to show a young lady staring down at her communicator with a look that is both one of pure wonderment and confusion. she runs her finger down the screen only to startle a little. her eyes widen then squint as she reads the screen's display. her lips press together tightly for a moment before her teeth worry her bottom lip.

then she seems to realize something and she almost drops the device in her surprise.]

Oh! Um-- Hello? Is it-- Do I speak now? [ she looks up before she looks down and gives another sheepish smile.] Hello. I'm Guinevere. But I go by Gwen. I apologize, I am still learning how to use this... communicator? [ she says it as though she's not sure that's what it's called. after moment, she pauses, her expression awkward suddenly when she realizes that she needs to ask a question, perhaps a worrisome one.

so she just looks sympathetic, a tight lipped, 'sorry-for-any-inconvenience' sort of expression. ] I wanted to ask... what manner of creatures have been attacking? [ as in what did do they look like and how can she avoid them? ]

[ neal's not quite back to his fighting weight, but he looks a whole lot better (and a whole lot less crazy, natch) than his last network outing.

he's also fussing with the cuffs on his devore, because you never go to battle without your best armor, right?

metaphorical, of course. ]

Wise words from a wise lady. [ and now with a slowy flip, he sets a fedora on his head and gives the camera a smile that's lovely lovely lovely and just a bit barbed. ] Résumé seemed apt, too, but a little dark given the occasion.

So, how was the month off, Tranquility? --and welcome to the new additions, of course. Watch out for Kardashians.

[ neal stop telling the ren faire kardashians are a horrible demon from your world, son, it's not as funny as you think.

also: one more hat flip because he can and we're out, tq. welcome back to the airwaves. ]